


Currents

by eltanin-malfoy (GammaDraconis)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Auror Reader, Auror Ron Weasley, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hangover, Literal Sleeping Together, Memory Loss, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Secrets, She has a cat called Juneberry <3, Slow Burn, Tame Impala - Freeform, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22129492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaDraconis/pseuds/eltanin-malfoy
Summary: Destiny is but a dream. Your life is made up of choices, even ones you don’t take for yourself.They’re all irreversible. Set in stone forever.You are your decisions. You are what you’ve done, even if you didn’t choose to. No matter what.But what if I told you it was possible to go back? What if I told you you could change every little thing you ever regretted?Would you go back? Or would you rather live with your mistakes?(Based on the album by Tame Impala.)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Powerlines

Dark times continue to persist, no matter what. When someone feels like they’re at the peak point of their life, there is someone, perhaps even someone nearby, who’s going through their lowest. But then there are times of widespread despair, of war and famine. Some embrace their pain, while some try to distance themselves from it. But no matter what, light comes after darkness.    
  
It has been nearly seven years since the end of the war since one of the greatest dark wizards of all time was defeated by a seventeen-year-old. There was a cost to power, oh, for sure. And He Who Must Not Be Named had been forced to pay. 

She remembered all the parties and all the celebrations that summer. The pomp and fanfare. She remembered all the delicately worded invitations and the venom laced grievances. But she’d skipped all of it. She simply wasn’t in the mood for all that joy and cheer back then. The war had passed but it had taken its toll on her family. How else was she supposed to react but by turning into a recluse and eliminating contact with all her loved ones? It made sense in her mind, at least.

It had taken time, but she had gotten over her loss. She had learned how to keep all those feelings under lock and key. It was all over and she didn’t need to think about it anymore. She’d moved on, really. The nightmares had lapsed and she could imagine a future for herself again. And now, she was a hundred per cent sure about what she wanted to do: protect others and fight those who could cause harm. She could never, ever let what had happened repeat itself. She knew better than not to learn from her mistakes. And that was why, after she finally gave her NEWTs in 2000, she applied for Auror training. 

She’d be lying if she said it was simple. She’d thought her seventh year at Hogwarts had been hard, but oh dear Merlin were the three years she was forced to face right after it much, much more difficult. She spent much of her time practising and reading up on the texts and techniques they were prescribed to learn. The few friends she managed to make were those she practised duelling with in the little spare time she had. 

Thanks to her commitment, she managed to make it through those testing years. She donned her red Auror’s robes with as much pride as she possibly could. She knew, honest to Merlin, that this was the best career option it could possibly have been. She was partnered up with a more experienced Auror, who was at times a bit patronizing, but generally agreeable. She spent most of her days helping muggles out of situations they shouldn’t ever have landed themselves into and casting memory charms to wipe their brains of entire incidents. But hey, Y/N knew any kind of job would eventually get boring. Also, she assumed it was better if they didn’t have as much  _ interesting _ work for her to do, it meant her world was that much safer.

But that didn’t last much too long. She knew happiness wasn’t something that generally sustained itself in her life. She didn’t know it yet, but the paperwork was on the way. She was only a few months into her second year of service and was soon to be offered a promotion. Not exactly, actually. She was to be assigned a different partner. (One she had never, ever wanted to work with. One whose face still sometimes made her relive one of her darkest moments.) And not for a reason she was going to enjoy.


	2. Nangs

It was very early in the morning when Y/N felt the weight of the many glasses of tequila she’d downed the night before hit her head like a pile of bricks. Much, much too early. The sun wasn’t at its peak yet, but it had never felt as overpowering as it did in that instant. Every little source of light or sound in the room, even with her eyes shut tight and most of her clammy body under the covers, made her wish she wasn’t conscious at all. 

The root of this weird sense of overstimulation was obvious. Some parts of her body felt oddly numb and well, again, it was clear why. When had drinking heavily become such an awful, terrible thing? She felt like she’d never felt this sick in her whole life. Even that time The entirety of the night before was a blur too. She barely remembered much after having drunk, perhaps, her third shot? Merlin, she was never ever going to drink again! Not even the odd glass of Firewhiskey on a cold day. Nothing.

She attempted to turn her body to the opposite side in an effort to shield herself from the overbearing glare from the morning sun, but soon realised it was kind of impossible. “Why?”, you ask? Because there was a very heavy, unmoving mass over her stomach which definitely wasn’t the cushion or the cat she’d assumed it was. 

It was an arm. A warm, pale one at that. Covered with some kind of fabric. What?

She tried to see whom it was but they were turned to the other side, a cushy pillow over the back of their head. She glanced around the room to realise that it was, in fact, not her own. It was someone who was definitely more put-together than she was. A hell of a lot more. There was only one thing out of order in the entire room, a violet, eighteenth-century-esque tailed coat was hung over a chair by the wall. Odd.

There were dark wooden shelves on the wall right by the bed, with a catalogue of books arranged carefully in them, the binding across the back in unfaded colour and clearly intact. The walls were a creamy shade of white, with intricate drawings of every sort of herb you could imagine drawn in darker shades along the corners. A few seconds of staring at them told her they were charmed to sway as if in a breeze. At least that told her she wasn’t in bed with a Muggle. Well, it was either that or that she was growing delusional. 

That figures. Perhaps it was time all that carelessness got back to her. Ron had told her off multiple times after he’d had to drag her stumbling over to Hermione’s for a Hangover Potion. You know what? Maybe it did serve her right. This was all karma, after all. Hermione had talked about it, even called it bogus, but now, it seemed to make sense after all. Sure, it was possible to enchant murals on walls, but, surely, she wasn’t in bed with someone with a taste for ancient clothing, right? She must’ve ended up going to one of those odd fairs where Muggles dressed up medievally and acted as if they lived in that period. And now she was just so far gone that her brain saw art twiddling about on the walls. She really, really couldn’t ev-

“Good morning.” drawled out a deep voice lying not too far from her.

Oh, gods no. She’d heard that voice before. Well, not that voice exactly, but a more boyish, overdrawn version of the same. Even then, hell, she could tell it apart from a hundred others playing at once. She’d spent her school days avoiding it and so many more wishing she’d never heard it at all. But _fuck_ , _sweet fucking Circe_ , she could still be wrong about this suspicion, right? It was _not_ him. If she thought it enough the universe could work in her favour, right?

She shut her eyes, hoping, praying, repeating the phrase “It’s _not him_! It’s another person.” over and over and over and over. She felt the arm move off of her, long fingers brushing against her covered stomach as it slid off. The heavy weight on the mattress along with her shifted and seemed to turn towards her, yawning lowly.

_Oh, please, dear Merlin. Oh, whomsoever it may be who can hear my thoughts, please. Grant me this much. Just this once. Please._

She opened her eyes to see a shock of blonde hair and the strong-jawed face of none other tha-

“No! No! _No_ ! Get _off_ me!” Y/N found herself acting unusually impulsively, sitting up straight and even causing the blonde jump slightly in shock, hitting the back of his head into his nightstand with a dull thud. “Fuck! I’m sorry!” She yelled out again, her hands balling up into fists as her brows creased with concern. What the actual fuck was she doing? First, she’d landed herself in bed with the very someone she detested, and then, she was humiliating herself and injuring him. Gods, she must’ve made him hate her too.   
  
“A-are you alright? Should I get you some ice? Or t-take you to St. Mungo’s..? Or do you have a potion I could fetch for you?”

Malfoy stared at her with his eyes narrowed, a hand pressed to the back of his head. His lower lip was now curled in a manner Y/N thought seemed rather unfriendly. He was still wearing a white button-up shirt, the only thing really out of order on him was his messy hair.

“No. It’s fine, thanks. I’m good for now.”

“If you say so.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds and patches on Draco’s cheeks soon flared pink. Y/N drew her gaze away and took a deep breath, wondering about just how easily she could remove herself from this situation and leave this place for good. It was _his_ house, right? 

“I’m sorry. I-I was a little shocked.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m sorry. Again. But um- I have to ask.”

“Yeah, sure, I guess.”

“Did we- did we-”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to blush. She looked underneath the covers and found all her clothes intact and her nether region soothingly _un_ -sore. Hey, even her panties were still snug over _it_ , not pulled to the side under her dress for an easy fit. At least she’d managed to dodge the one bullet.   
  
“So… what do you like for breakfast?”

“Um- I really don’t want to bother you. I should get going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I have to check on my cat. She must be all alone in my apartment.”

“Alright. I-I suppose I can’t stop you.” 

And Y/N could tell he really didn’t want her to stay for breakfast either. He was just being polite, but even then, reluctantly so. Just enough to not be straightforward about it, but little enough for her to understand what he was trying to convey.

And so, she said goodbye and excused herself. Apparated back to her apartment. Thankfully, Juneberry was prancing about right by the spot on the carpet she landed on. The little tyke. She immediately started mewling and rubbing up again Y/N’s legs, and what could she do but attempt to get rid of the goddamned noise? She leaned down and picked her up, quickly shoving her wand into her purse. Even though the apparition had only added to unsteady churning in her abdomen, she didn’t want to take it out on her silly, lazy cat. 

She walked through the hall into her bedroom, setting Juney down to take a seat on her bed. She set her purse beside her and lay back onto the mattress, feet still on the ground. It wasn’t long before her darned cat jumped up next to her and lay down beside her head. She reached up and stroked at its dark fur, shutting her eyes as she tried to clear her mind and come up with a plan of action.

But, alas! Her thoughts were interrupted by an insistent tap on the glass of her window. _Fuck_.

She got up lazily, walking over to her window to see tiny damned Pig flying right outside. Of course, Ron knew she hadn’t done a good job taking care of herself. She remembered him asking her a billion times whether she’d be fine by herself a few hours into their trip on the town after he’d found out Hermione was running a fever. She’d reassured him too, said she was an adult and could manage herself. But dear lord, she’d managed to make a temporary lapse of judgement while she was alone and batshit drunk. She sure was not supposed to be an adult yet, was she?

She opened up her window and let him in, watching as he flew around the room at top speed, before finally coming down to her and offering her the folded piece of parchment in his talons. She took it from him and quickly unfolded it, reading through it. A small tablet was taped to it as well.

> _Y/N,_
> 
> _Did you manage to get home fine? Sorry I couldn’t come over to check on you this morning. Healing charms aren’t doing much for Hermione’s fever, turns out. Keeps sicking up all the time too. She says she thinks she has food poisoning. I got really mad at whomsoever poisoned her at first when she told me but later she told me that that’s not what it means._
> 
> _Anyways, write me back when you get this. Oh, and I attached a paraseetamol. It’s a Muggle medicine which is supposed to help with headaches. Swallow it with a sip of water. Hermione’s all out of Hangover Potions, unfortunately._
> 
> _Best wishes,_
> 
> _Ron._

Oh, wow. She’d really been blessed, huh? Thank dear whomever for Ron.

> _Hi Ron,_
> 
> _Thank you so much for checking on me and for sending me this medicine. I’m all good and got home just fine. Hope Hermione gets well soon._
> 
> _Lots of love to both of you,_
> 
> _Y/N._

She knew for a fact worrying Ron by telling him the true alarming details would do either of them no good. So, she thought it was better she just omit them entirely.

* * *

“Come on, out with it. I can tell when you’re hiding something from me. Or, you know, just straight out lying to me.”

Somehow, over the extremely stressful weekend that followed, Y/N managed to nurse herself back to health. At least partially. Her head still felt slightly sore and her body was still cold enough to keep her wearing her red robes and crossing her arms, even while she was sat at her desk in the basement at the Ministry, where she was sure intricate warming charms were at work. And now, with one of her closest friends at the Ministry basically confronting her for her ‘crimes’, it felt freezing. She shuddered but attempted to shrug it off, looking up at the lanky redhead standing by her cubicle. She was so very thankful he’d cast a Muffliato charm when he’d come over.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Then it shouldn’t be such a bother getting you to tell me it, should it? Come on, Y/N. Tell me. No judgement.”

Oh, but how he would definitely judge her if she told him. And how very quickly he would jump to conclusions.

“You’re being very weird about this. You regret whatever happened, don’t you?”

“... Well, yeah but-”

“So something _did_ happen, then?”

“... Yeah.”

Ugh.

“Did you sleep with someone?”

“No!” She swallowed and looked to the side, blood rushing through her ears. She then muttered under her breath. “Not exactly…”

“Aha! I’ve caught you, haven’t I? Who was it?”

“No one!”

“Oh, come on, I won’t tell anybody. Not even Hermione if you don’t want me to.”

“Ron…”

“Y/N…” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, making her sigh.

“You know what? Fine. _Fine_ ! If you wanna know _so badly_. But you cannot tell Hermione. Or anyone else.”

“Okay. I promise I won’t.”

“Okay. Well… you have to promise not to laugh… or to get mad…”

“I won’t..?” He was clearly perplexed at that.

“... It was… “ She forced herself to whisper. “Draco Malfoy.”

“What?”

“... Draco Malfoy.”

“No!”

“...” She stared up at him, ashamed of herself.

“You’re shitting me, right? You have to be!”

“... I wish I was.”

Ron’s face started to redden and he began pressing his lips together as tightly as he possibly could, short breaths bursting from his nose. He gripped the wall of her cubicle for support, leaning forward as he did his best to suppress a giggle. She looked up at him with dejected puppy eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh..”

“Okay, okay. I did say that… but bloody hell! I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t _hate_ him. I just kind of have a deep-seated grudge against him.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I-I was drunk, okay! And it’s not what you think!”

“What? You slept together, didn’t you?”

“Well- I mean- we slept together, but we didn’t _sleep_ together.”

“.... What? What do you even mean by that? Wait… did he, oh dear Merlin, did he _touch_ you? Without your permission? You don’t have to hide that he did it, you know. You can tru-” His eyes were wider now, and his lips twisted unpleasantly.

“No! Ron… we slept in the same bed but we didn’t.. like, fuck.”

“Oh. _Oh_. So, it was like… you spent time together and then fell asleep?”

“I mean… I’m not really sure, to be honest, but that seemed like what happened. I was very drunk, to be hon-”

“What? Really? You don’t know what he might’ve done to you then, Y/N! I thought he’d at least have the decency to-”

“Ron… I’m pretty sure… nothing happened. I’d probably be able to tell.”

“Newsflash Y/N: he could’ve erased your memory or healed you or have done whatever it is to hide what he did. There’s no way you could be sure and-”

“Ron… leave it be, okay. I really doubt he’d actually… go that far. Don’t sweat it. Really.”

“I swear on Merlin, I’ll box his ears if I see him.” He balled up his hand and shook it, gritting his teeth.

“Come on, Ron.... nothing happened, okay? Please do _not_ do that.”

“Alright. Fine. But don’t blame me if he’s found battered on the streets outside his house one day.”

“Ron!”

She crossed her arms and feigned a frown, but soon burst into giggles, shaking her head. “Come on…” Ron shrugged and hardened up before soon melting himself, freckled cheeks creasing with a smile. 

But that little burst of laughter didn’t last very long. She got served. A small paper aeroplane made its way over to her desk, delicate white with bolded dark letters calling her attention. 

> **_TO AUROR Y/N Y/L/N:_ **
> 
> **_Cubicle 16, Auror Office, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Level 2._ _  
> __  
> __Dear Auror Y/L/N,_**
> 
> **_This notice is to inform you of your reassignment to a separate mission. You have been partnered with Auror Malfoy until the case in question has been solved. You will be briefed on the case within the week._ **
> 
> **_Regards,_ **
> 
> **_Head Auror Robards._ **

“What’s it say?”

“.... You’re not going to believe this.”

“What? Did you get Malfoy pregnant?”

“Har har har, very funny. No.”

“Then?”

“I… I’ve been reassigned.”

“With whom? I thought you and Dawlish were on good terms.”

“We are! I… this makes no sense. It seems so… targeted.”

 _So… convenient_ . _He couldn’t’ve requested for this to happen, could he have?_

“But what is it? Can’t be with... Malfoy, right?”

“... It might be.”

“Bloody fucking hell. You shou-”

“I know. I’m going to go and talk to Robards right now.”

And she got on her feet and practically ran to his office, ignoring all the paperwork for the past cases she had been busy filing. Goddammit. This was so out of the blue! And so fucking on the dot! This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence, could it?

She knocked at his door but didn’t wait for him to let her in, instead just stepping inside and bowing her head at him. 

“Good morning, Auror Robards.”

“Good morning, Y/L/N. Did you receive your notice?”

“Yes. I have… some questions.” She waved the piece of paper slightly, but then set her hands on her hips.

“I’m sure you must, but I will clear everything out soon. Don’t you worry. Just do your job.”

“No, please. Did Dawlish request this?... Did Malfoy?”

“No. It has to do with the case, alright? Good day.”

“... How come you put us together? I thought you knew about what happened during the war.”

“I know. And your Healer’s informed us you haven’t had an anxiety attack rooting from the issue in two years.”

“But I… why _him_?”

“... I was going to wait until a bit later to inform you, but I suppose it does no harm to let you know now. Something’s been stolen from the Department of Mysteries, and you’ve both been assigned to find it.”

“You… um… but why the two of _us_? We’re some of the most junior Aurors here.”

“Well, to put it short, Y/L/N, during training, you were markedly praised for your objectivity and ease of technique. And Mr. Malfoy… he’s our _prime suspect_.”


	3. The Moment

Y/N went home that night knowing much too much more than she was comfortable with. She hadn’t stood in that office for much longer, instead soon being sent out to sort out her affairs. All she knew was something, something incredibly limited in supply and absolutely secret had been taken. A fucking _time turner_ , of all things.  
  
She’d stared at Robards with shock as he’d even said that very word, wondering if this was some stupid joke. The last time she’d even heard of one of those was when she’d been forced to read _The Great Tragedies of the Second Wizarding War_ for her Modern Wizarding Conflicts class at Auror Training. The entire stock of Time-Turners, which had been located in the Time Room in the Ministry of Magic, were rendered useless during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries in 1996. While they weren’t “destroyed” per se, due to the way one of them fell when their counter was knocked over, the entire stock was trapped in an endless loop of falling over, un-falling, and then re-falling, in an endless cycle for all eternity, and were thus unable to be used. So, _how the actual fuck_ did someone manage to steal one of them? And why would they think Draco Malfoy was capable of doing so?

She was barely out of his office, staring at the paper in her hands while those very thoughts swirled around her head when the very person she was just not looking forward to meeting at any point in the near future. Draco Malfoy. 

She saw him in the distance, clutching and staring down at his own sheet of paper in frustration. She gulped and acted instinctively, stretching the paper as wide as she could over the front of her face and briskly walking as fas0t as she could without attracting his attention. She stiffened up considerably and leaned forward, trying to make herself look smaller than she actually was. She stared down at the floor, watching Draco’s expensively shoed feet clicking down the floor. Black leather dress shoes with the laces done up nice and tight. Fancy.

But then his footsteps slowed and he came to a stop a couple dozen steps in front of her, him tilting on his feet for a second as the bottom of the left leg of his trousers rolled up the slightest bit. God, he had some skinny ankles.

“Y/N?”

 _Oh, fuck_. 

She froze for a second, holding it up the paper before slowly bringing it down and folding it again. She brought her gaze up and met his own, piercing and pale. She realised how very suspicious she must have been looking and she gulped. And then, she realised how very extremely awkward this situation was. Wake up with no memory of what happened the night before in someone’s bed, then be rude to them, then get partnered with them in some top secret mission, and lastly, blatantly avoid them. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Yes?” Her voice was shakier than she’d hoped it would be.

“… What’s this about?”

“I-I… it’s for another mission.”

“Yeah, it says that on the note. But… what mission, exactly?”

“… It’s a secret.”

“Not for us… come on. I know you must have just been to Robard’s. What did he tell you?”

“He told me that- there’s um… been a robbery.”

“So we’ve been pulled together to investigate some petty theft?”

“No… it’s more like, _official_.”

“What?”

“Something’s been stolen from the Ministry.”

“ _Oh_?”

“Yeah. I… we aren’t supposed to know yet. He didn’t tell me what it was.”

She pressed her lips together tightly and shrugged. He stared down at her, clearly not convinced. He tilted his narrow face to the side and raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, really?”

“Y-yes.”

He squinted over at her suspiciously, then sighed. He brought his hands into his pockets and shook his head before just pausing.

“You can tell me, you know. We’re supposed to start working together as is, I really don’t see why you can’t tell me what he told you.”

“It’s… he told me to keep it a secret for now.”

“But I’m your partner. We’re supposed to-”

“I think you should go ask Robards yourself, okay? I don’t know if he wants me to tell you.”

“Y/N.” His nostrils flared the slightest bit. “Did you request this?”

“What?”

“Did you ask for us to be set up together? Is that wh-”

“No! Of course not.”

Fuck, she didn’t want to sound as rude as she did right then.

“I-I mean, it’s not that I _don’t_ want to be assigned with you! Yeah.” She smiled but her lips soon turned down at seeing Draco’s own expression. He was just staring down at her, features still up in a slight sneer. 

“Okay…? Are you alright?”

“Uh- yeah, of course. I’m just fine.”

“Are you sure the… um… that you’re… all clear now?”

“I’m pretty sure, yes.” 

Oh dear god, why did he have to bring _that_ up? She was trying very, very hard to forget about it, now that she was going to have to work with him. She’d slept in his own bed (and there was the slightest possibility they’d slept together too), been rude to him and now they were going to have to work together all day everyday for a while! That too on a mission as high-demand as this one. (WHY COULDN’T THEY ASSIGN AN ACTUAL TASK FORCE TO THIS CASE AGAIN? Oh, right, because of the Goblin Colony attacks in Scotland. AH. How tragic. Fuck.)

“Well. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah, um, be seeing you, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” He waved politely, quickly skirting off towards Robard’s office. 

Y/N quickly regained her senses and began to walk again, but not back to her cubicle for there was no way she could speak to Ron without imploding in on herself, but to the nearest washroom. She got in in a rush and locked the door behind herself. She looked at herself in the mirror, cheeks much redder than they were the last time she’d seen her reflection. 

How was one supposed to deal with this? How were you supposed to work with the prime suspect to solve the case? What the actual fuck? Why did they pick her to do this again? Why didn’t they fucking pick Dawlish? Why was it her? HELLO?

Surely, if it really was Draco who’d stolen said artifact, he would get to hiding it, wouldn’t he? He might even run away from the country. Or better yet, with the nature of the product, he could just go back in time and make it so that no one ever caught wind of his doings and he could just continue as is. Maybe that’d be a good course of action. She could stick with Dawlish and everything could just continue. WHY DID CRIMES IN THE TIME REALM HAVE TO BE SO GRAVE AND POSSIBLY LIFE DESTROYING? Merlin, Y/N wanted to scream. For many hours.

But then again. This was… work. She wasn’t supposed to moan and complain. She was supposed to take the blows as they came. One by one. Sigh.

She stepped out of the bathroom, breathing slowly. Doing every little thing her Healer had told her about preventing anxiety attacks. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.. Wait. It was Draco again and he’d already spotted her. He was clearly narrowing his sights and getting ready to pounce on her. Fuck. Fuck. It was him who’d done everything, wasn’t it? And now he was going to obliviate her! Oh my god! She reached into her pocket and drew out her wand, pointing it at him. Draco paused, eyebrows furrowing.

“What are you… doing?”

“Oh- um- nothing! Nothing at all. Aha. Just um… practicing stances, you know.” She put it back into her pocket and gulped, gritting her teeth in frustration. Today seriously was going from bad to worse.

“Alright. Um. Why didn’t you tell me before? It really wasn’t such a big deal. Nothing was _stolen_ , I think you misunderstood.”

“I just- Um. He told me not to-”

“We’re supposed to track down a centaur. The old Divination professor.”

“ _Oh_. Yeah, right. Right.”

“Yeah. So. Yeah.”

“I… we should probably research a bit about him.”

“Well, um, definitely. I was thinking I’d look into specifics and that maybe you could try and look for more about centaur habi- I mean, colonies in Europe.”

“Yeah-yeah, sure. I could do that.”

“Okay then. Be seeing you.” And he was off again.

Good. So she was all alone with that information. It was just her who knew about _it_. Well, and Robard. What the fuck? Why would they expect her to know how to do all this by herself? She put her hands on her face, muffling a very soft scream into them.

* * *

Y/N was sat in Hermione’s living room, taking slow sips from her cup of peppermint tea as she stared out the window. She’d rushed there straight after work, Ron in tow. She’d told him she wanted to tell the both of them together. And she had. And they were staring at her in absolute surprise.

“So. He thinks you’re supposed to-”

“Yes.”

“You’re meant to be investigating him while you work with him?”

“I- yes, I suppose I am.”

“Well, you can’t let him know, can you?”

“Of course not!”

“Right. So,..”

Hermione looked at Ron, face still slightly green after her bout of sickness. She was sitting on the sofa opposite Y/N’s, bundled up in a few blankets while Ron curled an arm around her and she leaned into him. She looked very much like a baby. A bushy haired, paler than usual baby. There were a few books on the table beside hers, indicating how badly Hermione was trying to catch up with her reading, even while sick. Gosh.

“Well. You have to be casual.”

“Yeah, Ron. The thing is, that’s not very easy.”

“Oh, right. Right.”

He looked over at Hermione and made a face, a suggestive sort of expression. And she tilted her head before soon realising…

“Oh, you slept with him?”

“No! I- well, yes. But not. Not like, sex. I just-”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how could you! With Draco Malfoy. Who even kn-”

“‘Mione… “ Ron pouted over at her, shaking his head.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Whatever. Lapse of judgement, I suppose.”

“Majorly. And I _didn’t have sex_ with him!”

“Well. Regardless. You can’t be super uptight around him, or he’ll figure it out.”

“Actually. You know, that might be a good front for you to act a bit more awkward in front of him.”

“You’re right.”

“But… don’t you think you should clear up what happened?”

“I should. I think.”

“You should just talk it through with him!”

“Hermione. It is not that easy.”

“But why isn’t it? It’s not like you like him that way, do you? I thought you disliked him.”

“Yeah, I- I don’t like him. Definitely not in that way.”

“Then why don’t you just ask him: what happened? Can we stop this?”

“I… I mean, I could try. I need to make peace with this… entire thing somehow.”

“Well, go for it!”

Y/N shrugged again, leaning back into her seat. She finished up with the last of her tea and set it away, staring at the couple for a few seconds before trying to change her expression to something a bit more satisfied and a lot less confused. 

* * *

Somehow, that night, Y/N managed to gather her senses (and an appropriate amount of the Draught of Peace) for long enough to compile some notes about centaur habitats. The Forbidden Forest in Scotland, the Wychwood Forest in England and the Hoia-Baciu Forest in Romania. There. Oh, and the Black Forest in Germany. Huh. All varying amounts of spooky.

She’d put them together in a file and was standing by Draco’s own cubicle (which was stupidly elegant, by the way. And I mean, of course it was.), shifting her weight and balancing herself on the balls of her feet, awaiting his arrival. She stared down at her folder again, sighing as she awaited his arrival. Very hopefully, he wouldn’t shock her as he always seemed to do. Besides, she was a lot more confident this time. Thankfully, she noticed him stepping out of the elevator and waved over at him, lifting her folder. She was for some reason glad to see that he was only carrying along a slim briefcase.

He smiled at her, albeit reluctantly, and soon arrived. “Good morning.” He set his briefcase on his desk and then looked at her folder. “Oh… so, that’s all you did?” Wow, what an _unnecessary_ comment. She handed over her folder to him and he set it beside his case, now beginning to open it up. And he undid the clasp, and… voila! A thick, thick binder full of as many sheets of paper as she could even count at once appeared. Goddamn illegal Extension Charms. 

“Wow! How long did you spend on that?”

“Eh… all of last night. I tried to put together every record where Firenze’s name was mentioned.”

“There are that many?”

“You’d really be surprised. And I mean, it’s been a very long while since he was last seen by his colony. Almost an entire year. And the circumstances of his disappearance have been so mysterious, they actually ‘deigned’ to contact us. That’s quite literally what someone from his colony, um, Bane? He wrote this in his official complaint. The Centaurs generally sort matters like this out themselves.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N nodded slowly, forcing on a smile as the silence between them began to grow awkward. Could he really have stolen from the Ministry? Right now, he just seemed like a right nerd. Not a sinister mastermind. But then again, taking an object out of an eternal loop of falling was no simple-minded task. She sighed and put her hands in her pockets, thinking about how best to bring the situation back down to normal. 

“Y-you know… I-I can’t help but notice things have been a little awkward between us since the whole…?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

“ I… I kind of wanted to… you know. Clear things up a bit. Figure out what happened.”

“Well, nothing really happened, as far as I can remember. I was also a bit…” He made a cuckoo sign with his finger.

“Oh. Okay. We were both quite drunk then?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“But we didn’t like… together?”

“Definitely not.”

“… I hate to be suspicious and whatnot but, how are you so sure?”

“I… I just know, alright? There’s just a way I do.”

“I’m- Okay, I suppose I won’t insist on that point. But… I just wanted to kind of clear the air a bit, you know?”

“I do. And… I suppose I understand that.”

“I’m sorry I was so weird that day.”

“‘S Alright. Um-”

“Do you want to explain Firenze to me then? My research is kind of… cut and dry. Not hard to figure out. But yours seems very complex.”

“Oh, sure. I-I just need to clear out this one little detail I’ve found with you first.”

“No problem. Go ahead, I suppose.”

“You had him for Divination, if I’m not wrong?”

“ Yes.”

“Well, the thing is… one of your classmates. Lovegood. She’s been linked to him several times over the past few years. She’s the only human the centaurs named, had been familiar with.”

“Oh my.”

“Yes. Something about… stargazing patterns or summat’”

“Sounds like it makes sense…? Luna loved doing that, if I’m remembering right.”

“You see, it’s been months since she’s contacted the Ministry as well, though no one’s contacted her as yet. She’s supposedly gone on a Magizoology assignment, tracking down gnomes. I have a theory… their disappearances aren’t just coincidences.”

Wait a second. _Disappearances_. Time turners caused people to disappear from their current timelines, didn’t they? And Luna was a Ravenclaw, after all… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this story was very slightly inspired by cursed child. but no, there is no separate plotline involving voldemort and bellatrix’s love child trying to bring her father back. (YUCK!) also i am v sorry to disappoint but i am going to postpone this story up till april/may. this fic hasn’t been receiving much attention and it’s my final semester of school so the workload/studying is just getting a bit too much to juggle writing and planning alongside if i’m getting little attention for it.


End file.
